


Jealousy Hurts

by FiveUmbrellaAcademy



Series: Jealousy Sucks [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Bottom Number Five | The Boy, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, Exhaustion, Extremely Dubious Consent, Five is physically seventeen, Hurt Number Five | The Boy, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Miscommunication, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Painful Sex, Possessive Behavior, Punishment Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Top Diego Hargreeves, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27895537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiveUmbrellaAcademy/pseuds/FiveUmbrellaAcademy
Summary: "God, Diego." Five rubbed his temples, exasperatedly. "He's our brother."The fact the Diego even implied the very idea that Klaus, their brother, might've been hitting on him -"I'm your brother, too." Diego blurts out.Five just stares back at Diego, his eyebrows burrowing -Shit. Diego is..."You're jealous." Five states, and confusion is at the very core of his being."I'm not 'jealous', Five." Diego's forced nonchalant response.Diego is jealous.And Five doesn't know how to deal with this.OrFive's POV in "Jealousy Sucks".
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy/Diego Hargreeves
Series: Jealousy Sucks [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050857
Comments: 6
Kudos: 92





	1. Jealousy is (Jealousy) Ridiculous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five's point of view in "Jealousy Sucks".

God, Diego." Five rubbed his temples, exasperatedly. "He's our _brother_."

The conversation Five is currently engaged in with Diego is heading in a very confusing direction.

Firstly, Five can't wrap his head around fact that Diego had even implied the idea that Klaus might've been hitting on him earlier in the mansion. Which is _absurd_ , to say the least -

"I'm your brother, too." Diego suddenly blurts out.

The obvious statement throws Five. So he just stares back at Diego, his eyebrows burrowing as Diego abruptly rips his gaze away, heading towards the refrigerator.

They were quote unquote 'arguing' in Diego's boiler room, because Diego adamantly refuses to step foot in the Hargreeves' mansion again, insists in harbouring past wounds, and even suggested that the mansion should burn down, along with their individually crappy experiences -

Five winces as Diego yanks the refrigerator open, the edge scraping harshly against the wall. 

Realisation hits Five the moment he sees the back of Diego's ears burn red. 

_Shit_. Diego is...

"You're jealous." Five states, and confusion is at the very core of his being. 

"I'm not 'jealous', Five." Diego's forced nonchalant response. And Five's first inclination is to immediately believe him.

_Of course, the fact that Diego would be jealous is ridiculous._

That is, until Diego adds on an unnecessary remark about Klaus.

"I'm not fucking jealous of a man who's spends most of his waking moments tryna get _high_."

Five refuses the urge to exhale in exasperation. Diego is jealous. And Five isn't - doesn't _know_ how to deal with this. The only other option is to ensure that Diego realises the very notion is absurd. 

"Good." Five says, simply. Slowly. Enunciating each and every word. "Because that would be stupid." 

Diego doesn't answer him, and Five realises it's an unsatisfactory response. Five racks his brain for a better alternative, something to convince Diego that the idea was...

_Ridiculous_. Even to Five who still can't wrap his head around it.

Instead, Five just watches Diego chug the remaining milk from the carton, noting his clenched fists.

It doesn't matter, anyway. 

Diego. Is. _Not_. Jealous.

...That's just - _ridiculous_.

* * *

Five feels Diego's hands twisting tightly into his hair, tugging harshly.

It's rougher than normal, and Five _can't keep up._

Mouth pliantly open, Five almost chokes as Diego _thrusts_ in harder into his mouth. Five almost loses his grip on Diego's length, has been trying to swirl his tongue around it, _attempting_ to, but Diego - 

_Shit_. Five's knees scrape against the boiler room floor as Diego thrusts too roughly, _clearly_ trying to deep throat, and Five almost loses his balance completely.

Dimly, Five realises his shorts are painfully inadequate, and Five doesn't want bruises on his knees, especially when he has to go back to the Hargreeves' mansion the next morning. 

Five lets go of Diego's length, abandoning all pretense of attempting to pleasure his boyfriend.

Diego won't let Five do _anything_. 

Swallowing hard, Five keeps his mouth open, lets Diego guide him wherever he _wants_ \- 

Breathing is a struggle, now, too. 

Blindly, Five grasps the bedsheets behind Diego's knees, clasping it tightly in his fists. The pace is _brutal_ , and Five can't remember it ever being this rough, wonders wildly what variable had changed between then and now - 

Diego is jealous.

_Shit_.

Five readjusts - or attempts to - his jaw _murderously_ aching as Diego keeps thrusting punishingly into his mouth. 

_Should it be this rough?_ Five is blindly wondering, a unfamiliar pang of unease shooting through Five. Diego's length is leaking precum, thrusting in uncomfortably deep, _deeper_ into Five's throat, deep throating, and Five grips the sheets, fisting it harder.

The gag reflex is incoming, and Five screws his eyes tightly shut in an attempt to stave it off.

In his throat, Five feels Diego thickening, and Five doesn't want to ruin Diego's approaching orgasm. _Besides_ , _it's almost over._ And the lack of air is irrelevant, Five can hold his breath for a few more seconds.

Swallowing the excess saliva around Diego, attempting to relax his throat, Five lets Diego tug his hair uncomfortably tighter, thrust faster, _deeper_ into his bruised, _aching_ jaw - 

Diego fucking _cums_ in Five's throat. 

Five abruptly gags, immediately pulling away. The cum sinks down in the wrong pipe, and Five _chokes_.

Irritation floods through Five's entire being, his heart still thudding erratically from the lack of air. 

"What the _fuck_ , Diego." 

Five can hear the clear rasp in his voice, as he mechanically massage his almost certainly bruised jaw. The entire ordeal is reminiscent of Five being choked, countless of times during his missions at the Temps Commission.

Less than an ideal imagery, but at least it's for a better cause. At least Diego is getting off.

That's fine.

...Five can _deal_ with it. 

Speaking of which, Diego is uncharacteristically breathing fast as he stares down at Five. At Five, who's still kneeling uncomfortably on the hard floor, still attempting to catch his breath. 

The position is strangely vulnerable for Five, and Five would kill before he'll ever be seen in this position by anyone.

But, it's _Diego_.

Exhaling softly, Five just looks at Diego, who's expression is unreadable, though Five assumes in his distant gaze, Diego might be trapped in his thoughts.

Swallowing, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth, Five gazes back in increasing concern. Flashback, Five would say, if he had PTSD. 

_...Perhaps it really is PTSD._

Five frowns, brows furrowing. Resting a reassuring hand against Diego's inner thigh, Five opens his mouth - 

"Sorry," Diego mutters, barely even apologetically. 

...And Five can't fight the urge to scoff at the blatantly unapologetic tone. _Forget it._ Rough oral sex and choking Five isn't a big deal, he really doesn't need a sincere apology from Diego.

Rubbing his temples, Five just lets it go. There are far more pressing things to see to, and Five just can't seem to get that specific set of calculations right to calculate the Commission's next move. 

And that damn book Five impulsively thought might help, had ultimately led to an infuriatingly dead end.

_Five leans against a ridiculously tall bookcase, tracing calculations on the side of it._

_...Why the hell doesn't it add up? Five had already subtracted each decimal carefully, carried the ones and painstakingly checked through each and every digit._

_Five feels an overwhelming urge to snatch a pen and just write on the damn_ wall _._

_It'll add up once Five gets the damn book that's ridiculously too far to even get to, he'd asked Vanya to find a ladder in the goddamn mansion before he loses the equation that's slowly driving him insane -_

_Someone pokes their head through the doorway._

_Five snaps his gaze to it, and it's not Vanya. No, it's Luther. Luther, who takes two steps forward -_

_And just snatches the book off the shelf without a ladder._

_"Why didn't you just materialize the book?" Luther had asked, wide eyed as Five irritatedly shove Luther_ back, _his brother standing far too close in his personal space for his liking._

_Five had bit back his response back then, gaze flashing to the door, as he impatiently waits for Diego to come and pick him up, the actual sibling he_ wants _to see. In truth -_

Five is _exhausted_. He's been exhausted for the past few days, especially when Diego had accidentally woken him up last night, and Five realised with a surprised jolt that he was nursing a mild fever. 

Exhaling softly, Five rubs his temples. _Irrelevant_. It's nothing a short nap can't fix. And Five just wants to _sleep_ , right at this very instance. 

Diego is thrumming in a strange energy as he shifts suggestively closer to Five. "Let me get you off, Five." 

Five ignores the ache in his knees and jaw, just pushes himself off the floor, removing his hand from Diego. _Shit, his shorts are slightly dusty._ All thoughts of getting off is shot out the window, only thoughts of Diego's warm and inviting bed stubbornly remains.

"...I'm good." Five mutters, distractedly. He's already hopping into Diego's bed, making sure there's adequate space for Diego to settle in comfortably next to him. 

_Fuck_ , he's tired. 

Distantly, Five hears Diego asks, "What?" 

Refusing the urge to exhale exasperatedly, Five realises there's a slim chance he might've mumbled into the blankets. 

"I said nope, Diego." Five says, popping the 'p' as he tugs a pillow exactly right where he wants it. "You don't have to."

There. _Perfect_. Then, Diego can lie down, and Five can proceed to bury his head into Diego's warm, protective chest, and promptly pass out into mere nothingness. 

Diego, however, doesn't _do_ that. "Why?" 

Five doesn't _understand_ Diego's question, doesn't comprehend why Diego is not lying down and immediately wrapping his arms securely around Five as per usual routine, instead insist in asking these irritatingly repetitive questions. Exhaling sharply, Five bites back his sharp tongue. 

_No_. He doesn't want to argue with Diego. He hasn't argued with Diego in eons. So Five decides to be civil. Patient.

"Why, _what_?" 

And Diego chooses this specific time to be woefully annoying as he immediately retorts, "What do you mean - _why the hell won't you let me get you off?"_

_For_ fuck's _sake._

"Does that really matter, Diego?" Five asks irritably, patient sorely running thin. And he almost snaps at Diego. _Almost_. 

With a huff, Five just drops it.

_Forget_ it. Diego, his brother, can continue sulking in the strange mood of his that Five cannot even _begin_ to comprehend, not when he's this fucking tired.

So instead, Five just burrows comfortably into the covers, _leaves_ Diego's side empty in case he changes his mind, and just sleep. The calculation must be missing a decimal somewhere, an unassuming place that Five is adamant he'll see once he _sleeps_. 

...Besides, Five had gotten Diego off. His jaw is still - aching. 

The unease of that is still resting in his chest.

"I sucked you. You got off." Five swallows, hard, eyes flickering shut. The weariness is sinking into Five, the stress of the equation not sitting quite right in Five's head. "Isn't that enough?"

"Yeah, but I -" 

" _What_?" Five finally _snaps_. Yanking down the covers, Five glares at Diego, eyes glinting murderously, daring his imbecile of a boyfriend to continue the goddamn subject. 

_Let it go, Diego._ Five thinks, clenching his fists, knuckles slowly turning white. 

But Diego isn't Diego if he does. 

"Why the fuck won't you let me _fuck_ you?" 

There's a stiff, tense silence in the air. 

Slightly more awake, Five notices Diego's chest heaving, his increasingly heavier breathing. Five raises his concerned gaze to Diego, mind flashing back to the Diego's vague, distant gaze from earlier - 

Diego abruptly strides two steps to the bed, crowding _completely_ into Five's space. 

Five exhales sharply, his back crashing harshly against the bed as Diego completely miscalculates the distance.

It's irrelevant, barely even hurts, and Five's more concerned with Diego's state of being. Unsure of the intent behind Diego's rash action, Five wants to reach out, to see if he's okay -

That is, until Diego forces himself in between Five's legs, pressing his hard on directly against his clothed entrance. 

Anger _floods_ through Five the second Diego's intentions hit him.

"No means _no_ , Diego - _what the hell are you doing_?" Five snaps, all patience gone.

And it absolutely _floors_ Five when Diego abruptly grabs Five's wrist, bruisingly hard, and _pins them securely high above his head._

Five levels his _murderous_ gaze on Diego as he hovers threateningly over him, trapping Five, his legs spread wide. 

...There's no way Diego actually forgets Five is a space-time continuum assassin. 

Five grits his teeth, and waits for Diego to _remember_. Instead, Diego utters the most nonsensical sentence ever to grace his lips. 

"Why? If it was Luther, you'd bend over backwards to please him?" 

Why. The _hell_. Would Diego even _get_ that impression? Luther. _Luther_. 

Five feels his fists clenching, shaking in anger. _Shit_ , he's tired. He can't deal with this. He absolutely cannot _deal_ with this right now. 

"If you want," Five sees Diego's idiotic mouth keeps moving, keeps talking, "I'll get him here right now and he can - _fuck_."

Five knees him in the groin.

Narrowly avoiding the most sensitive area, Five makes sure of that, but Five's sure it sends the right message.

"Get the fuck _off_ of me, Diego. _Now_." 

Diego doesn't let up. Instead, to Five's utter disbelief, he leans in and sucks at Five's exposed neck - 

Pinned in Diego's iron hold that's beginning to feel painful, Five concludes the he doesn't have time for this bullshit. He's _tired_ , there's an empty bed back in the Hargreeves' mansion waiting for him. 

Clenching his fists, Five feels the familiar crackle of electricity. Calculates accurately in his head, making sure Diego doesn't fall and unwittingly _hurt_ himself - 

And Diego stumbles out of the teleport, Five staggering backwards, the opposite direction of his boyfriend. 

Ripping apart time and space again, Five catches a short glimpse of Diego righting himself, before he abruptly disappears in a flash of blue. 

* * *

That night, Five sleeps alone. In an empty bed in a cold, uninviting Hargreeves' mansion. 

_...Shit_. Maybe he should've let Diego fuck him. 

Rolling onto his back, Five stares blankly at the ceiling, the plain, white ceiling, equations whirling intrusively in his head. Five closes his eyes, attempts to sleep.

...He _can't_. 

The bed feels too empty, too cold. And the _equations_ -

Precisely at 4:32 am, Five just gives up, drags his exhausted body back to his desk, weary gaze staring down at the calculations. 

_Fine_. A decimal must be out of place. It's _always_ a decimal. 

Gritting his teeth, Five switches open the lamp, begins the grueling calculations all over again. It'll just take a few hours.

In a couple of hours, and he'll teleport back to Diego's bed, and he'll be able to fall asleep again. 

Just a couple more hours. 

The entire time, Five ignores the ache in his jaw, and the accompanying unease of Diego's uncharacteristically harsher treatment. 

_Diego's jealous_ , Five thinks, as he carries the one, and subtract the two, grips his pen tighter. 

And _shit_ , Five doesn't know how to deal with it. 

* * *

Hours later, Five eventually arrives to a relatively solid conclusion, all the while still engrossed in scrawling in calculations into his notebook.

_It's almost there. The calculations are near perfect._

Five can almost pinpoint the next location of the Commission agents' move to stimulate the apocalypse - 

_It's irrelevant. The jealousy will gradually fade._

Five grips his pen, knuckles white in annoyance. _If he could only stop being distracted._

...Because the very idea of Diego being jealous is just ridiculous. 

Five swallows, _hard_. 

In hindsight, though, Five should've known this would be the catalyst to Five's deteriorating mental state.


	2. Jealousy Is Hurtful (Painful)

Exhaustion hits Five so abruptly that he accidentally loses grip of his pen. 

_Shit_. 

The pen rolls uselessly underneath Five's desk, and he opens his mouth, irritatedly wonders why Diego hadn't stopped him, hadn't coaxed him gently away for a break as he always did—

Five swallows hard. _That's right_. He's not back at the boiler room anymore. After the unmanageable situation, Five had promptly teleported back to his cold, _empty_ bedroom in the huge, uninviting Hargreeves' mansion. 

Breath catching in his throat, Five glances anxiously at the clock on his desk—

 _Shit_. Five swears under his breath. Two days, _two whole days_ he'd been furiously scribbling in calculations in his notebook like a maniac. 

_Goddamn_ it. _Not again._

Heart thudding wildly with unease, Five immediately pushes himself off the desk. Limbs aching, cramping, Five forces himself to shake off the numbness, and the wave of uneasiness swirling in his tightening chest. 

_Coffee_. _That's it_. Five needs - coffee. _Black_. Preferably _now._

Five clenches his fists, harshly digging into his palms. Electric blue crackles around it, ripping apart time and space to flash inside the kitchen, right in front of the coffee maker—

Five _staggers_ onto a startled sibling in the center of the living room instead, promptly knocking said sibling over. 

Vanya. 

" _Holy sh_ \- Five?!" 

Five rights himself as he instinctively grabs Vanya, a second before she involuntarily face plants directly onto the Persian rug.

"...Calculations are off." Five grits through his teeth, refusing to admit it's due to exhaustion and forgetting to perform the most basic functions for the last two days. 

_At least his jaw isn't aching anymore_. Five thinks, grimly. 

A flash of Diego, and Five wishes he could erase the last two days, wishes he hadn't teleported back here, to unwittingly be here alone for two entire days without anyone, _anyone_ , realising. 

...He was _alone_ in his room for two days. 

And no one _noticed_. 

_"I was alone. For forty-five goddamn_ years _," Five had bit out to Diego, back before when his boyfriend didn't understand, couldn't comprehend that Five doesn't want to be alone, right before they were together in a relationship._

"Oh." Vanya blinks, before her brows furrow in confusion. "Where were you heading?" 

Still reeling from his disastrously miscalculated teleport, Five considers this innocent question for a few, brief seconds. _It's Vanya_. _Safe, understanding Vanya_. Still, Five isn't in favour of admitting he'd been intending to teleport to the kitchen.

"Bookshelves." Five bites out, clenching his fists. Vaguely contemplates why he can still hear his heartbeat thudding audibly in his chest. "...Needed another book."

There's an uncomfortable silence that washes over them as Vanya takes in Five's unusual appearance, and Five's almost certain there's dark bags underneath his eyes, taking in his uncharacteristically disheveled hair and clothes.

Exhaling through his teeth, Five contemplates just walking past Vanya. He doesn't need questions on his grasp of sanity, and how he slipped up again, into a deathly manic grip of calculations, and swirling, borderline obsessive thoughts of averting the apocalypse. 

All his needs is _coffee_ , doesn't his siblings understand how Five doesn't want them to die all over again, the whole thing far more important than just Five's general state of health and well-being? 

But with Vanya blatantly staring outright at Five, Five _can't_ avert his gaze from Vanya, instead sees her just standing there, _alive and breathing_. Void of ashes and deathly pale skin. Slightly flushed from the heat in the living room, and her eyes wildly, beautifully alive.

The tightness in his chest fades. _That's right._ All of siblings are alive. Five isn't _alone_. Not anymore. Guilt for almost knocking her over washes over Five. 

"...Sorry." 

Vanya blinks, before her expression relaxes into a soft smile.

"That's okay, Five," she murmurs, and Five's suddenly hit with flashes of late nights, sweet childhood memories, and marshmallow and peanut butter sandwiches. 

"Have you been sleeping well? You look exhausted," Vanya continues, gently, and Five feels any irritation in his being die out. Vanya.

_He'd left her alone for years._

Five doesn't know what expression briefly flashes across his face, doesn't know when exactly his mask breaks. But that's precisely when one of Vanya's hands find its way to Five's arm, right before she tugs him close, wrapping her arms around Five, protectively. 

Slowly but surely, Five relaxes in her warm, loving embrace.

 _I've_ \- _missed you, Vanya. I'm sorry for - leaving._

And in any other instances, perhaps if Five hadn't been exhausted, had actually slept for the past two days, he would've noticed a door shutting tersely behind him. 

But Five _hadn't_.

...And he didn't notice.

* * *

 _So. Diego's jealous_. It's roughly half an hour later, and Five wonders idly where Diego stands in this absurd equation now. 

Arriving at the boiler room took far more effort than Five would've like. Teleporting with a lack of sleep does abysmal wonders on the body. 

_Two goddamn days._

Shit. 

Leaning his forehead softly against the front door, Five weighs the decision to teleport one last time into Diego's boiler room. 

But Five's _exhausted_. A shower, coffee and a piece of toast is clearly not adequate enough to replenish his energy levels. Leaning against the door, Five realises his eyelids are involuntarily flickering shut. Shaking his head, Five attempts to get rid of his stupor, the slight daze that's gradually settling in his increasingly cloudy mind.

...That's exactly when he hears footsteps approaching the boiler room. 

_It must be Diego_. 

Pulling his forehead away from the door, Five leans against it instead, a smirk already tugging at the corner of his lips. 

_God, he misses him_. Diego's hand is pressed against his eyes as he mutters under his breath, and Five knows he's doing the irrational habit where he agonizes over a simple, insignificant issue that Five would then calmly point out is actually simple _and_ insignificant. 

Most times, Five would then offers a distraction, one that always ended up on his knees or leaning back and spreading his legs for Diego.

 _It clearly works_. Five is more than fine with that. 

"Hey, Diego." Five says, clear amusement in his voice. Diego snaps his head up so fast, Five distractedly wonders in mild concern if Diego experienced whiplash. 

Readjusting his body, it hits Five that he really wants to sit down, the exhaustion nagging at the forefront of his mind. Leaning more firmly against the door, Five watches as Diego suddenly grimaces. 

Five frowns. It must be the raging thoughts again, plaguing Diego's mind. A twinge of unsettling unease curls itself uncomfortably in his stomach again. 

Diego is now gesturing vaguely at - well, Five's not entirely sure. Logically, it must be the front door, though Diego is strangely unclear. Five assumes it is, considering Diego's next words.

"...Why didn't you just teleport in?"

 _Exhaustion._ Irrelevant _. Forgetting to sleep and eat for the past two days._ Also irrelevant. 

Five opts for a shrug, instead. 

"Improving my manners." The words slip easily pass Five's lips, and he gazes at the familiar sight of Diego in his leather pants and shirts.

Leather. 

A smirk tugs on the corner of Five's lips. "Are you going to open the door or like I said to Luther, are you going to hover there like an ambitious stripper?" 

Diego's expression abruptly _shifts_. 

A flash of blazing, _red hot anger_ takes over Diego's expression, and Five's chest painfully constricts all over again, reminiscent to two days ago. Wordlessly, Five watches as Diego grits his teeth, jaw clenching as he heatedly moves to open the boiler room door, keys in hand.

Diego's knuckles are deathly white, fists clenched. His entire being brims with unchecked anger. The front door swings opens, and Five notices the strength Diego is putting into clenching his fists, digging into his palms, disturbingly looks like it might be painful. 

Brows furrowing, Five closes his hand around Diego's knuckles, wants him to stop—

His boyfriend harshly _yanks_ his grip away from Five, so rough and abruptly Five doesn't even see it coming. Diego stalks inside, without even sparing Five a look, as if he was—

Five swallows _hard_.

For a moment, he doesn't _move_. 

Five _refuses_ to feel the sting of Diego's actions. Mutely, he lets his hand fall back to his sides, blankly gazing at the space where Diego had been occupying just seconds prior. 

A flash of a previous memory, once upon a time. 

_"I don't initiate contact often."_ Five had murmured to Diego, when they'd first started dating and Diego jokingly accused Five of not knowing if they were together, if Five wanted his touches _. "The apocalypse does that to you. But when I do -" Five pressed against Diego, hesitantly. Unsure. The_ _first time Five had ever touched Diego by himself, without a gentle prompt._

_"Yeah, yeah." Diego says, fondly, wrapping his warm arms protectively around Five. "I'll never pull away from you, Five. I'd be crazy if I did."_

...Five exhales. 

_So, it's an off day. Everyone, Diego included, experiences it occasionally._

_This is irrelevant. The_ hurt _is_ irrelevant _._

This time, Five doesn't even think, doesn't stop to contemplate, just teleports straight into Diego's boiler room—

And lands right in front of the refrigerator. _How convenient._

Five casually opens the refrigerator door, gaze immediately zoning into the alcohol. He wants to get rid of the earlier memory, still feels the rejection of Diego's flooding his entire thoughts, the goddamn _sting_ from the rejection.

He'll settle for coffee, instead. He'd already relapsed into manic calculations and his unhealthy, obsessive behaviour. Five isn't in a hurry to add in passed out drunk to the growing list. 

A flash of Diego chugging down the remaining milk as Five notes Diego's clenched fists, two days ago. Two whole days where Five had been goddamn _alone—_

 _Milk._ Five silently exhales. _Do they have milk -?_

A small warmth nudges in Five as he spots a new carton, casually upright amidst the groceries, the feeling spreading as Five realises Diego must've gone out to buy it.

"Look at that. You got more milk." Five notes, a clear hint of amusement in his voice. 

...Only to be met with deafening silence. 

Clenching his fists hard enough to draw blood, Five's jaw tenses. It hits Five that the silence is slowly grating into his nerves, his already _sensitive_ mental state, especially being awake for the last two days.

Being _alone_ for the last two goddamn days. 

His boyfriend remains silent, says _nothing_ to break the tense atmosphere, even as Five vividly recalls quiet conversations drifting through the night, up until dawn, and even later then. Hushed words with warm arms wrapped protectively around Five as Diego shares his vulnerabilities unreservedly, whilst Five struggled to share his. He wasn't the best conversational partner.

...But Five really fucking _tried_. He tried to make it up in other areas, too. 

The unease and tightness in Five's chest swells to almost unbearable levels, and now, Five can barely _breathe_. There's still a lack of response from Diego, and Five needs this to just _stop_. 

So Five just looks at Diego, forcing his next word to be even. Steady. "So." 

Diego _barely_ even glances up at Five, refuses to let his gaze linger for even a decimal of a second. 

Five's gut twists _painfully_ in his stomach, and flashes of raw desperation in the apocalypse clouds his mind, when Five would hallucinate his siblings, who were always just out of reach, always cold and unforgiving, Five desperately wanting to just see their eyes just _once_ —

Five suddenly catches the tense shoulders, Diego's hand pressed against his eyes, the habit that represents a whirlwind of thoughts, ones that Diego shouldn't be fixating on, ones which are simple and insignificant.

A distraction. 

_...Fine. Is that what Diego needs?_

"So." Diego mutters, yanking his hand away from his face, carelessly shrugging off his jacket onto a nearby chair. Meanwhile, Five just mutely closes the distance between them, as Diego continues to idly place his knives back to where they belonged. 

Swallowing hard, forcing past the uncertainty and shoving down the irrational - _no longer irrational, Five_ \- fear of rejection, Five hesitantly brushes against Diego's length over his leather pants.

A distraction. 

"So, are we doing this tonight?" Five asks, gaze fixated on Diego's cock.

"Why? So you can stop everything before I can fuck you?" 

Masking his expression expertly, Five suppresses a wince. It's the crude way in which Diego utters the words that Five doesn't like. Diego _knows_ Five doesn't like that. He _knows_ that. 

_Irrelevant_. Diego needs a distraction. Five is just - _insignificant_. 

_And it's Diego._ The same man who'd promised the world to Five, who'd insisted in loving a stoic, unlovable killer who murdered countless people in his lifetime, who knew each of his flaws and accepted him anyway. ... _It's_ \- _Diego_.

Slowly, Five relaxes, feels the tenseness dissipating from his shoulders. Letting a smirk tug the corner of his lips, Five lets the irrelevant emotions wash over him, instead focuses on pressing up against Diego as suggestively as he could.

"Well, I was thinking we'd go all the way this time." 

If sex is what Diego wants, Five can give it to him. Five's painfully aware there aren't many other things he can give Diego. 

A flash of lust and desire shoots through Diego's gaze, and without uttering another word, Diego abruptly _shoves_ Five down to his knees. 

Breath slightly catching in his breath, Five forces down the immediate uncertainty, the unease that rises in his chest accompanying Diego's action.

_It's - rough._

Distantly, Five hears Diego hastily unclasp his belt, before he's pushing down his pants.

 _Irrelevant_. Five thinks, a second later, forcing down the unease, now a familiar emotion swirling in his chest. _It's Diego_. Gathering saliva, Five opens his mouth, barely even has to wait before Diego is pushing unreservedly in, the familiar feel and taste of Diego's length nudging in—

Immediately, Five swirls his tongue, reaching up to grip the base of Diego's length with his hands. 

Breathing through his nose, Five hears a pleasured groan ripping from Diego's throat, and a part of Five relaxes. _It's okay._ Five thinks, reassured. _Nothing has changed. Diego's just having an off day. Perfectly understandable._

On his knees, mouth around Diego's length, Five does exactly everything Diego likes, already memorized it down to each vivid letter. Spreading his own legs further, Five knows it turns Diego on to see Five underneath him, the picture of submissiveness. 

_"You're so good at this, Five." Diego once groaned, as he gently grips Five's hair, forcing himself not to thrust roughly into Five's mouth. And Five feels warmth at the praise. "I don't fucking deserve you."_

_Five had never needed praise or validation._

_Luther had once said, "You think you're better than us."_

_"I don't_ think _I am." Five had retorted. "I_ know _I am."_

_Diego gave it to him, anyway._

Diego's increasingly growing harder in Five's mouth, his orgasm inching close. Relaxing his throat, Five's eyes flickers shut as he takes Diego in deeper and _deeper_ into his throat, hands tugging and twisting at the same time as he sucks Diego—

Diego abruptly _yanks_ Five up by one arm, the force and unnecessary strength behind it completely shocking Five. Staggering to his feet, Five barely just manages to regain his balance before he's being shoved unceremoniously backwards, harshly into the bed. 

Five staggers, just catches himself on his elbows onto Diego's bedsheets. 

Heart skipping from the abruptness, Five swallows, sees Diego who instantly crowds into his space, reminiscent to two days ago. Swallowing down the unease from the harsh treatment, Five leans back, willingly lets Diego into his personal space—

Diego _rips_ off Five's shorts and boxers, the fabric catching harshly against Five's skin. 

... _Shit_. 

Spreading his legs, Five glances uncertainly back at Diego again, who's uncharacteristically silent, gaze elsewhere, refusing to even make eye contact—

Diego _slams_ his cock into Five. 

Five _arches_ his back, breath catching in his throat as Diego thrusts mercilessly deep, right into the hilt, bottoming in one go. 

Pain _shoots_ through Five's entire being, and it absolutely fucking _hurts_.

"How many times can you cum?" Five distantly hears Diego breathes hotly into his ears. Clenching his fists tightly against the bedsheets, knuckles deathly white, Five screws his eyes tightly shut, attempting to relax, to let Diego _in_. 

It's never been this _painful_ before. 

Suddenly holding his breath, Five feels Diego pulls his cock harshly out, doesn't wait for Five to adjust, before he's ruthlessly slamming back into Five, who's legs are still spread for Diego, and - Five just needs to focus on _breathing_. 

Breathing. 

Irrelevant. _Irrelevant —_

Five is _insignificant_. 

...For god's sake, he isn't a good conversational partner. Five is hopelessly useless in relationships, doesn't even know where to begin if it wasn't for Diego. 

Five can give him this. 

"As many times as you want, Diego." Five breathes, panting. Accepting whatever Diego wants. And Five sees Diego vaguely appeased expression, replacing the previous anger that cloaked his entire being. 

"Don't regret saying that." Diego breathes into his ears, and all Five can do is arch his back as Diego _thrusts_ deeply, more brutally back in. 

* * *

Five pants softly, heart thudding in his chest as he willingly lies underneath Diego after his fourth orgasm. Legs spread to accommodate Diego's body, parted wide around Diego's shoulders, still completely exposing his body up to _anything_.

...It's the most vulnerable position Five can ever be in, can ever offer to anyone in his lifetime.

But it's Diego. 

_When they had first embarked on a relationship, it had taken a ridiculously long time before Five was ready to take the next step with Diego._

" _Five, Five_ _."_ _Diego had groaned, before he wrapped a shaking hand around Five's wrist as Five had desperately attempted to shove down his shorts, pressured to perform, to sate Diego's erection. It'll be the first time, but Five doesn't fucking care, it's been too long already, Five can't make Diego keep waiting --_

_"Only when you're ready, Five." Diego breathes into Five's panicked state of being. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I ain't going anywhere."_

Diego is still buried deep inside Five, Five's walls pushed brutally apart to accommodate Diego's impressive length inside him. 

Five feels everything, always does. 

The beginning was so rough. But everything else was the same. It's Diego. _Diego_. The only difference now, is instead of warm, comforting arms wrapped around Five, Diego's still buried inside Five, and his hands are on both of his head, possessively. 

It's still _Diego—_

Five _tenses_ , breath stuttering as he feels Diego rocks lazily back into his body, dragging his cock mercilessly against his oversensitive walls. 

Arching his back, Five lets Diego, his eyes flickering shut as he attempts to feel the heat that rises in his stomach, the one that induces an orgasm inside him. After all, Diego is the only one capable of making Five feel this way. 

Distantly, Five feels the tiny flicker of pleasure amidst the pain from the oversensitivity, that Five knows can be sparked if Diego keeps going, hits the right spot only Diego knows where. 

"I bet none of them has ever fucked you like that." 

Panting softly, Five frowns, only just vaguely registering the implications of Diego's words. Feels Diego leans in, makes a _mark_ on Five's bruised neck.

Vaguely, Five is aware the location of the bruise is above the neckline of his collar shirt, and Five should say something, he _should_ —

Diego smirks when he _doesn't_ , Five mentally notes that as Diego thrusts harshly in again, drawing out the movement as he pulls out. 

Five arches his back, groans half in pain and pleasure as Diego slowly thrusts in and out of Five's readily exposed body, brutally chasing another orgasm.

 _As many times as you want, Diego,_ Five had said, and Five meant that. But still, Diego's words are ringing alarm bells in his head. 

_"I bet none of them has ever fucked you like that."_

"...What - are you - _ngh_ \- talking about?" Five bites out, the confusion slowly sinking into his mind. Because the only time Five has is spent with Diego or back at the mansion with the rest of their siblings. "When, Diego, would I even find - the time to meet other people -" 

Diego abruptly thrusts in again, and Five's breath catches, feels every movement of Diego's length painfully, _almost pleasurably_ , dragging against his oversensitive walls as he hits the spot—

The realisation dawns on Five just as Diego pulls out, readjusting the angle of his deep thrusts.

 _...Their goddamn_ siblings. 

This time, Five can't stop the short, clipped laugh that escapes his lips. Diego is fucking implying that he was...

"You think I - Let me reiterate for you, Diego." Because it seems to me you're implying I sleep with the other members of our siblings." 

_It's ridiculous._ Five raises his gaze to Diego, still on top of him, waits for a readjustment of what he believes is one of the most ridiculous things to ever slip past Diego's lips. 

But Diego doesn't respond. Doesn't even slow down his thrusts into Five's oversensitive body, and the pleasure that was growing rapidly disappears as Five realises what Diego thinks is happening behind his back, what Five is doing behind closed doors at the mansion.

The loud silence is seeping into Five's crackling self image of what Diego apparently thinks of him -- 

Diego _thrusts_ harshly back in and Five arches his back in sheer _pain_. 

"Can you blame me? See what I see." Diego retorts back, and Five's chest constricts so painfully tight at Diego's words, and if Five is younger, this might have broken him to realise that Diego's image of him, that Diego...

Diego thinks - he _thinks_ \- 

"You're hardly ever here, Five."

The next thrust is so deep, and with the pleasure completely gone, it fucking _burns_. Five feels his entire body tenses, and logically, Five knows it's the complete opposite of what someone should do when they're having sex. 

_Something else hurts inside Five. Another pain also stems elsewhere, vaguely somewhere in his chest._

Diego _thrusts_ into Five again. 

And amidst the whirlwind of Five's thoughts, of what Diego clearly thinks he's capable of, Five's hands unintentionally comes up to Diego's chest, the physical pain combined with mental confusion and hurt, distorting Five's mind.

Diego thinks he—

"You're _always_ at that shithole, and whenever I 'happen to just swing by', you're with one of them. Pressed up against them. God dammit, what the hell am I supposed to think?"

 _When? When?_ Five racks his mind, replays any significant memories of having provoked Diego's accusation against Five, attempts to recall any such memories. 

Five should defend himself, attempt to rewrite his evidently poor image through Diego's eyes. He really should say something, _anything_ to disprove the painful accusations.

Five swallows _hard_.

Amidst it all, though, Five's throat closes up. All the words he should say dries up, and Five wants his heart to stop fucking _cracking_ into tiny, almost irreparable pieces.

Flickering his gaze to the ceiling, Five just breathes.

Breathes.

 _Irrelevant_. 

Everything is irrelevant. If Diego thinks Five is sleeping around with the rest of their siblings in his spare time, then Five must've provoked the reaction somehow. Five must've displayed something that was vaguely unfaithful to Diego. 

_Perhaps it's his fault._

Five wonders if it would've been better if he'd never found out Diego's terrible image of him. Distantly, Five hears the slight crack in his voice, the only outward appearance of betraying his unsteady emotions. 

"...All I'm seeing is the bracing clarity of your image of me." 

Diego thrusts back in, chasing the fifth orgasm, and Five just lets him. 

* * *

Diego presses against Five, his hard on obviously pressing firmly on Five's thigh. 

Five is sitting on the chair by the table in the boiler room when Diego does that, scrawling in calculations from where he'd left of. 

It still _burns_ from their earlier session, and Five had planned to sleep, _had,_ until Diego dropped the bombshell of his image of Five, and Five couldn't keep his eyes closed afterwards. Nauseous insistently rose in the back of his throat as Diego's words echo in his racing mind, and Five still couldn't grasp the logic behind it. 

...He needs to think about this _later_. Not now, when his emotions are clouded, not when he's mentally compromised. 

So Five had cleaned up, dressed and proceed to flip his notebook open, shoving away the intrusive thoughts, forced it down in murky depths, just as he did countless of times in the Temps Commission. 

It's irrelevant how his heart is hammering painfully in his chest.

It's hours later, and Five had just gradually become lost in his work when Diego suddenly presses against him.

Five's pen halts a little, before he resumes his writing.

Scrawling down calculations, Five's mind distantly flashes back to the first time they fucked. Five was finally ready, insists he is, but when it came down to it, Five was nervous.

And Diego—

_Diego had been surprisingly gentle. Slowly opening Five up, taking his time, all the while breathing encouragement into his ears. Five had never experienced that in his lifetime. During training, Reginald never did encourage Five, nor reassured him. It was just orders, forceful intentions and impassive, disappointed gazes._

_Five finally let down his guard with Diego. Had finally relaxed and let him_ in _._

_Since getting together, Five had let Diego in places physically and mentally where no one has ever been before._

...So that's why it fucking _hurts_ more that Diego assumes Five had been with others, thinks that Five so readily let others into his personal space so freely, so goddamn _casually_. 

Diego has been with countless others. Five knows this as a fact from snippets of his siblings' conversations and past recollections in his years of absence. 

Meanwhile, Diego was Five's first. First _everything_.

And apparently, Five could only sate Diego using his body. Just his fucking body. 

_Irrelevant_. 

Five forces down the childish hurt and self-destructive thoughts. _Shit_ , he was becoming distracted again. 

Distantly, Five wonders if he'd said no, if Diego would push the issue, as he'd done two days ago—

Five's breath catches, his gaze abruptly zoning onto a glaring mistake in his calculations. 

_Shit_. 

Shit—

—This conversation had to be done later. 

"Would you accept the answer if I said no?" The words come out strained, Five forcing down the frantic, almost hysterical emotion slowly rising in his chest as he scrawls in his notebook, masking his expression expertly. How the _fuck_ did he miss this decimal? 

Now it _had_ to be a no. 

Breath catching in his throat, it suddenly dawns on Five the extent of his mistake. All the calculations beforehand must be wrong. 

_Shit, for the love of—_

Diego presses his hard on against Five, and Five desperately wishes this wasn't his reality, wishes that Diego wouldn't find someone else to sate his erection if Five isn't available, but Five needs to correct the goddamn calculations—

"You really are insatiable, Diego." Five says, attempting to keep the frustration out of his voice. "Five times isn't enough for you?" 

Five should've gone for more, insisted on going longer, should've done better, so what if it was fucking _burning,_ Five could've taken it—

Diego scoffs, tugging up a chair opposite Five and his notebooks. It scrapes against the floor, and Five can barely breathe, suddenly sees the mammoth of the mistake he'd made in his numbers, wonders how long Diego can wait for him.

Five scrawls in a new set of numbers, in place of the one he'd missed, correcting the ones he didn't see. 

"It's never enough for me." Diego says, clear irritation lacing his voice. "The last time we fucked before today was the fucking _Ice_ Age."

 _...Fuck_. 

The mistake is _significantly_ worse than Five thought. 

Without realising, whole minutes pass by as Five distractedly attempts to rectify his mistake, before Diego finally speaks again.

_Shit, it's impossible. He needs—_

Five needs—

A flash of a book that Five knows would vaguely aid to fix this, saving him immeasurable time. 

"So. That's a no, right? I _knew_ it -" 

It's in one of his siblings' room. 

Without glancing up at Diego, Five abruptly places down his pen. "I need to run some calculations." 

Five blinks away, his thoughts on the physics book, his entire being disappearing in a bright flash of blue. 

He'd fix this with Diego _later_. 


End file.
